


Chocolate Covered Strawberries

by orphan_account, soccerkeeper6



Category: The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom, WandaVision (TV)
Genre: Cute, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hot, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Sweet, Sweet/Hot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-20 15:49:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30007242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account, https://archiveofourown.org/users/soccerkeeper6/pseuds/soccerkeeper6
Summary: What if the heart hadn't meant The Harts? How did Wanda and Vision decide on a magic act? What was the twins' 1-5th birthday party like?A series of comedy, fluff, and smut in short moments outside the show across the decades when the Maximoffs are at their maximum.
Relationships: Wanda Maximoff/Vision
Comments: 11
Kudos: 77





	1. The Best Course of Action is to Impress the Husband

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally this chapter was in script form, but as time went on, I really disliked how it looked on this platform. So, here is the same scene converted! Hopefully a bit easier on the eyes.

The hall closet was both incredibly neat and horrifically messy. Yes, everything was carefully stacked away when she had magically unpacked, but as the tower of neat boxes and bags loomed before her, Wanda reconsidered her tactics. 

Sure Agnes was occupied elsewhere, she surrounded the box of candlesticks with red and pulled. Another blanket of red held everything stacked on top in place, and then down to gently rest in their new position.

“How are those candles coming, dear?”

The red instantly dropped away and all the contents wobbled forebodingly. A quick slam of the door kept the avalanche at bay. “Will these do?” Wanda brings them to her neighbor at the dinner table. “They’re new.”

Agnes playfully swats in Wanda’s direction. “Oh hon, the last thing you’d want for an anniversary dinner is a droopy old candle. Trust me.”

A tight smile and knowing look gave acknowledgment. Unpacking the candles, she thought about how romantic the drips of a lone candle in a wine bottle could be. It wouldn’t take too long to melt them a bit. But then to find the wine bottles for that Tuscan look. That would be a challenge. “I just don’t want Vis to feel like I didn’t remember the occasion, you know. Maybe an Italian theme could really tie up the evening in a bow.”

Agnes frowned at the candle she pulled out, broken in the middle. “Well, that tracks.” She laughed. “Wanda, when I’m done with you, the only thing Vision will be thinking about is birth control.”

That was a bit much. Red flooded Wanda’s cheeks as her hand flew to her mouth. But she couldn’t stifle the small nervous laugh that had originally surfaced. 

“Or not.” Agatha winked. “Listen hon, when you’re an old married crone like me there’s no time for subtlety anymore.”

It was Wanda’s turn to swat at Agnes. “You’re terrible!”

She shrugged. “What are you planning on wearing? We’ve got just over an hour and a half.”

Wanda found herself becoming bashful again. “Oh heck, why not. I’ll show you.” She hurried to the bedroom, then returned with a white tuille robe with fluffy bell trim, and a creamy white slip underneath.

Agnes rubbed the fabric between her fingers. “Gee, Wanda! Why’d you have me reading off all those magazine tips to you when you had this scrap of cloth waiting in the wings?”

“Oh,” Wanda’s face scrunched up in worry. “It’s too much, isn’t it? I don’t know why I bought this in the first place!”

With deadly seriousness, Agnes dropped her tone and stared Wanda down. “You know exactly why you bought this, you little minx in mink.”

“Agnes!”

“Fine, fine, I’ll stop. Let’s move on to dinner dear.”

Wanda followed her into the kitchen. Agnes was already nose-deep in the cabinets, opening and shutting them with the speed of a professional chef. Each one was as empty as the last. “What happened? Vision vacuumed out every crumb on his way to work?”

“Yes!” She flopped her hand up to her forehead. “He is actually quite the machine when it comes to food. I had meant to go shopping today, but well you know how the day ended up getting away from me.”

Agnes’ eyebrows reached record height. “My, remind me to save you scraps from my kitchen in case he eats you out of house and home again. Wouldn’t want you getting the spins, hon. What dinner will you be making then for this insatiable machine husband of yours?”

“I will be making…” Wanda paused to think. “Reservations.”

The most recently opened cabinet slammed shut. “Good girl! I knew I liked you. Now, how’s about dessert. I’ve got everything you’d need for a Baked Alaska if you’re game. ”

“No, no.” Wanda waved her hand as if to bat her neighbor’s suggestion away. “No, Vis, with dessert, he’s very picky.”

“Too American?”

Wanda cautiously nodded.

Her friend shook her head in sympathy. “Well, how’s about something simple, like chocolate-covered strawberries?”

Simple, small, fast. “I don’t see how he could find fault in that.”

Agnes dropped her hands to Wanda’s shoulders and gave a quick squeeze. “You get the double boiler going, I’ll be back with the berries and chocolate.”

As soon as her chipper neighbor shut the back door, Wanda doubled over in exhaustion. All this work and Vision might come home expecting something totally different. Well, at the very least, she would have some chocolate to nibble as Vis explains to her all the reasons her preparations made no sense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to really ham it up for the sitcom feel, just as it was done for the actual show, so strap in because Agnes/ Agatha is only going to get more brazen with her comments ("How to goose your wife so you don't lose your wife" will never leave my brain).


	2. Impress the Wife

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wandavision goes off air after episode 1 concludes with the romantic evening being set.

_That wasn’t so scary,_ Wanda thought while closing the door behind Agnes. _I think we’re going to do alright here._

Two dipped strawberries had the fridge all to themselves, and the sink finally had purpose. Wanda popped of the seal of the dish soap, then hesitated as she focused on her manicure.

The soap stayed suspended midair, blanketed in red magic, as Wanda stepped back, arms up, and snapped. Bright yellow rubber gloves appeared on her hands. “That’s more like it.”

It didn’t take much more than hot water and a soap droplet the size of a mint to get the chocolate washed off of everything, and the small dishrack quickly filled.

The clock chimed and Wanda jolted in surprise. A glance told her it was already 5 pm. “Ooo.” She winced at her state of dress, briskly heading back to the living room to grab her gown, then scrunching her face as she realized the candles needed to be lit. Back in the kitchen, she rummaged around in the drawer of miscellaneous objects. A rubber band, some paperclips, push pins, scraps of paper, and letter opener were all present, but no matches. “Oh phooey,” Wanda exhaled, heading back to the living room. “It’s not as if anyone is watching right now.” She waved her hand and the room plummeted to darkness, and then became softly illuminated by the dozens of candles all lit at once. Satisfied with the ambiance, she found her gown once more and took it into the bedroom with her.

It was 5:15 when she had finished touching up her makeup. She didn’t have much more time. One of the benefits of Vision’s job was consistency. Every day ended at 5. And give or take a few minutes for casual conversation with coworkers, her husband would be home by 5:20.

The whole house was still dark, but with Vis’ night vision abilities, sitting in the living room would quickly ruin any chance of surprising him. It would be easiest to wait in the hall, so Wanda did, letting her head tilt back to rest on the cool wall while she listened for the telltale noise of their car’s engine.

Eyes shut to focus more on the sounds, it became increasingly difficult to keep her mind from wandering. A smile grew rapidly after the first image flashed before her: Vis, back in his normal skin, staring at her as she eats her dinner of a single chocolate strawberry, lips closing around the tempered dark chocolate.

“Wanda,” He’d growl, entranced by the way she would close her eyes to savor the layered taste. “I’d hardly think that is a balanced meal.”

She would flick the tip of her tongue across her lips to capture any stray chocolate, then set the strawberry stem back onto the plate with a smirk. “If you’re worried about my protein intake, I can assure you I have a plan.” She would examine her hand, looking for any sign of melted chocolate or strawberry juice on them, and regardless of anything being there, bring her index and middle fingers’ tip to her puckered lips, daintily licking just below her nails, then sucking the pads.

Vision's eyes would start to focus with lust, and then his mind would brush hers. She would let him enter her thoughts, linking themselves entirely as they so often did when emotions were climbing. Milliseconds after, he would close the space between them in two long strides, forcing Wanda to lean back, the edge of the counter pressing against the small of her back and her husband towering above her. Feeling his lust in his mind mixed with his musk of a hard day’s work would be overwhelming. The pocket of air pushed over her from his rapid movement would bring goosebumps to her bare skin, and the feeling of the heavy suit fabric against her thin gown would arouse her nipples to peaks. His chest would vibrate, further stimulating her as he huskily replies, “Either you have a chicken broiling in the oven, or I’m beginning to think you are implying to take a bite out of myself.”

His face would be dead serious, electric blue eyes two laser beams slicing through her. The warmth of his breath would caress her cheek and make the chills from the air seem like nothing as she would shudder with want.

“I can tell from the way you’re looking at me, it’s definitely chicken, isn’t it?” Vision would wink at her, then crush his mouth to hers.

Wanda recognized the sound of their car engine pull up into the driveway. It pulled her out of her fantasy and back into the real plan. It took Vision approximately 78 seconds to get from the car to the door, as reported several times by the man himself. Wanda adjusted her nightgown and raised herself onto her tiptoes. Right on time, the front door clicked open, and she made her way around the corner and into the front room.

Her tall husband was an easy mark to sneak up on, always taking the same pause to leave his briefcase by the door or stash it in the closet. “Guess who?” She covered the tall blond’s eyes.

“Hopefully my wife, otherwise this quite an awkward way to burgle someone.” Vision set down his case and spun around to find his wife smiling back up at him.

Wanda lowered her hands from the blond’s head down onto his shoulders, and in an instant the blond was no longer a blond, but her red and silver synthezoid. “Happy anniversary, Vis.”

“Yes, ah” Vision looked around the room, only then realizing the multitude of candles and the white tulle garment Wanda had on. His voice dropped low. “What are you wearing?”

Her hands flew from his shoulders to her hips. “You’re supposed to say happy anniversary back.”

The defensive posture should have made Vision backtrack, but he eyes had fully adjusted to the low lighting. He allowed his eyes to answer his own question, tracing the dip of her neckline down to the soft mounds of her breasts. The rest of the fabric draped over her like a cascading waterfall, the fine translucent veil revealed the opaque silk slip beneath. He couldn’t help but to reach out and trace his fingertips from Wanda’s shoulder, down the L of her arm, and onto the dip of her waist. “What are you wearing?” He rasped.

“Do you even know what this anniversary is for?” Wanda squinted at him, trying to hide how electrified his soft caress made her.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard and refocused. He straightened up and began fiddling with his suit buttons. “I absolutely do, Wanda. I’ve been quite excited all afternoon.”

Wanda reached out to unbutton the coat fully. Vision shrugged off the fabric, and Wanda took it from him, holding it by the collar so that the garment would fall along its natural fold lines. “Tell me again about that day.” She opened the closet and hung up the jacket. When Vision didn’t immediately respond, she added honey to her voice and fiddled with the hem of her deep V neckline. “You just tell the story so well, sweetheart. Please.”

Vision’s eyes were wide with terror and arousal. He started heading towards the kitchen. “Darling, have you already eaten?” He disappeared through the door.

Her heart jolted with excitement, the memory of her fantasy so fresh. He was falling right into her trap. Wanda practically glided in after him. “Why no, I have not.”

Vision, in his jarred state of trying to remember the story of the day, was half phased into the refrigerator, his lower half sticking out. Wanda let out a soft hum of appreciation for the view, which triggered him to back out of the appliance. He pursed his lips and squinted with mischief, and Wanda realized he had planned the move as a distraction all along. Despite all his literal interpretations and generally innocent persona, Vision had a keen mind for picking up on things that piqued Wanda’s interest in a very specific way.

“It appears the refrigerator is still empty.”

“Funny,” Wanda paused. “I could have sworn I prepared something.”

Vision cocked an eyebrow. Wanda let the silence linger, then jumped with her hand pointing up to indicate her “sudden” epiphany. “Ah! I remember now.” Her kitten heels clicked across the linoleum to the far side of the kitchen island. She plucked up the chocolate-covered fruit. “Courtesy of Agnes’ garden.”

“I don’t recall seeing any cacao trees in her yard.” Vision held still, eyes locked on the way the feathers on her sleeve slipped down her soft skin as she brought her hand up to her mouth. “Darling might I make a recommendation?”

Wanda paused, the morsel just inches from her lips. “Yes, dear?”

Vision strode up next to her. “You’ve such a lovely white gown on. There is a 96 percent chance of staining it if you take a bite of that strawberry in your current state.”

“Vis,” Wanda added scandal to her tone. “What are you suggesting?”

His hands balled into nervous fists. “Perhaps eating it over the sink would be in your best interest.”

If he hadn’t looked so genuinely concerned, Wanda would have become exasperated. Was there not enough lilt to her tone? Her language. Not suggestive enough? But because of the sincerity of her husband’s worry, she calmed, knowing the night was not lost yet, and the more lines she got in before Vision clued in on her allusions, the better the look on his face when it clicks. With a nose scrunch and smile, Wanda carried her treat between forefinger and thumb. “Great idea, dear.” She navigated around the island and over to the small silver sink with no dishes and an unopened bottle of washing liquid.

The chocolate was bittersweet, followed by very sweet strawberry. To her surprise, she was suddenly met with a wall of warmth to her back. Vision had closed the space between them once more, pressing the length of his body up against her back, his arms encircling her just above the waist in a loose embrace. She couldn’t help but let out a small gasp, both in surprise and immense enjoyment of their new position. The small “oh” oh her mouth allowed just the slightest drop of juice to drip over her lip and into the sink.

Vision’s breath was hot on her ear. “I told you there was a high likelihood of you dripping, darling.”

Wanda choked down her bite, unsure if she should finish the treat, or toss it away and allow her legs to jelly as Vision opened his mind fully to her. She set the stem and remaining fruit down on to the counter. “Vis.”

She tried to control her breathing as his thumb began in small circles at the base of her sternum, making her gown ride up, then down, then up again, then down. He dropped a kiss to the side of her head, let his thumb break the threshold of her clothes and brush against the base of her breast. Wanda found herself closing her eyes and grinding back into her husband’s hardness, her hands groping behind her for anything to dig her nails into.

Vision worked his way down her hairline with slow, wet kisses. His nose nudged her head to fall to the side, giving him the full range of her neck to kiss, lick, and suck. “Yes, Wanda?”

It took all her strength to stay still. “I think I’m done with dinner.”

He gently grabbed her earlobe between his teeth, tugged just slightly, then let go. “I’m not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to just have fun with it and not worry too much about the editing process. Next chapter will hopefully therefore be up sooner, and it will contain the M content y'all clicked for :)


	3. Strawberry Discarded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The promise of the story rating: Things get taken to the bedroom after a very sexy "dinner".

Wanda’s left hand finally found purchase around Vision’s belt behind her. Her right landed around the nape of his neck. A tug of encouragement pinned her even harder between the sharp edge of the counter and him. One simple twist of her head was enough to pry her husband off her neck and bring him to her lips. His hand slid beneath her gown to cup a breast, the soft skin and gentle weight sending a thrill down his spine as though it were his first time fooling around all over again. Wanda’s breath quickened and Vision took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, pushing down into his wife’s mouth as though he were falling into her.

She kissed him back with equal haste and greed, pushing herself up to match his insatiable need for closeness. It had scared Wanda towards the beginning of their relationship, how even the smallest of touches from Vision made her want to pull him into her until there was no distinction between where she stopped, and he began. It was unlike anything she ever experienced. The near instinctual need to meld entirely was addictive. Perhaps it was the mind stone trying to rejoin itself. That was what Vision had originally proposed as an explanation after she confessed this insatiable desire one late evening and he confessed that he felt it too. But though they could connect their minds as easily as they turned on the radio, the actual physical ache of the pull never came from the mind. It was a bungee cord from her heart to his. She could feel her entire being strain from her chest, pulling her to him with such strength, she was sure her ribs would break. It was a black hole of romantic greed that had long devoured her and yet still hungered for more. She didn’t fear it anymore, though. She reveled in it.

Her return of his hard kiss pushed him off of her just enough to allow her to flip her body around, the small of her back now against the edge and his hand relocated to her back. The slight metallic of his saliva as her tongue slid against his and into his mouth drew out a sigh. His lips briefly closed around her tongue, then released the suction to pull away before crashing back into her, his teeth capturing her bottom lip. They rolled the supple skin between them, and Wanda let out a squeak of arousal. As soon as he let go, she found his upper lip, sealing her lips around it. Her hands had wandered to his chest, balling fistfuls of his button-down, and Vision bent one leg to seat his thigh between her legs.

“Vi-,” Wanda tried to say his name but struggled to form any more letters in her mind. “Vis-“

He ground his thigh against her and went back to sucking her neck just below the jawline. The new angle of attack meant that Wanda could no longer hold onto his chest with both hands; her left needed to be relocated. At first, she went back to grab his belt, but then reached further out. Her hand snaked into his back pocket and squeezed his butt through the rough fabric, and finally, it was Vision that was tongue-tied.

“Oh,” he sighed on her skin. “Darling, I—”

His moment away from her neck afforded her an opening for an assault on his. She nipped at the base of his neck, then licked up in one long delicate line up to his ear. In his haze of trying to say her name, she sucked his pulse point, further distracting him. She knew it was impossible to give a synthezoid a hickey, but she took every possible opportunity to try anyway.

The pressure of Vision’s leg between her thigh disappeared as her husband melted under her ministrations. She doubled down on her advantage, squeezing his butt again, and moving her other hand to gently graze the front of his pants. They both shivered, and Wanda felt her feet leave the ground.

It was a good thing Wanda had the foresight to push the beds together ahead of Vision’s return home because there was no time to do it as Vision scooped up his wife and phased through the house to their room. As soon as he was back at regular density, he pushed her back onto the bed. Her legs dangled over the edge with him between her. His mouth was already making short work of her gown. With every kiss, his nose worked the fabric more and more off her shoulder. He started just off to the side where the fabric met her collar bone, over to where her collar bone and shoulder met. He pulled the gown off her shoulder with one hand and kissed lower and lower until his mouth closed around her nipple.

The world began to slow, all of Wanda’s senses bombarded with Vision. She tugged helplessly at his shirt, pulling the tails up and out of his pants. He backed off her to pull off his tie and phase off his shirt. Wanda couldn’t help but laugh as gravity floated the shirt down onto her stomach. She laughed every time. It wasn’t laughing at him, she had explained after his first attempt at phased disrobing.

“It’s sexy, Vis, it really is, I swear.” She had reassured him. “I just, it kind of tickles when it falls on me, and then your face…”

Vision furrowed his brows in further concern. She reached up to cup his cheek. “You make this face when you try to do a sexy clothes phase and I—it’s so cute and you-- I just laugh.”

So now, when he phased out of his shirt and it floated down onto Wanda’s stomach, prompting her clockwork snickering, he made sure to accompany the act with a smirk and a wink. He loved how his winks always elicited a nose scrunch of pleasure from his wife.

His pants however were a different story.

“You want me to leave my pants on?” Vision had been bewildered by the request, as she had not complained the several times before that when he had phased them away with the shirt.

Wanda had scooched down to the foot of the bed, her face level with his bellybutton and hooked her fingers in his pants along the ‘v’ of his abdominal muscles. “You’re going to like this much more, trust me.”

After tugging him a smidge closer, her hands tugged his belt buckle undone, then pulled the belt out from the pant loops entirely before being tossed to the floor. She grinned up at him.

“Now phase out?” He asked, and his grin grew to wicked proportions.

“Now this.” She kissed his stomach and unbuttoned his pants, then looked back up at him, never breaking eye contact as she pinched his zipper with her forefinger and thumb and let her other fingers fall to graze his length as she pulled the tab down.

Vision quickly found that she was right in his increased enjoyment of disrobing. “I wholeheartedly agree with your argument.” His pants fell to his ankles.

Wanda had kissed his hipbone. “Thought so.” The process was soon repeated much more hungerly for the last of his garments.

Back in their Westview bedroom, Vision felt wholly confident as Wanda laughed and nose scrunched at his shirt routine. He started working manually at his belt.

“Wait.” Wanda beamed. “My turn.”

Vision froze, blue eyes dancing with curiosity as she made no move to scootch up to meet him at the end of the bed. Rather, she scooched upwards until she was entirely posed on the bed, one arm propping her up, her legs stretched out across the two adjoined beds.

“Should I climb onto the bed for you, or?” His question was cut off with a snap, and he was left stunned. “Oh, you are a wicked witch indeed.” He growled, drinking in the sight of his wife now suddenly in lacey bra and panties. He phased off his pants and crawled up the bed after her.

________

A wisp of red cracked open the bedroom window, fresh crisp air rushing in to swirl around increasingly warm room. This was her favorite part of sex. The slow beat before the grand finale. Her thighs were just beginning to feel sore, and Vision was compensating for his wife’s loss of momentum by digging his hands into her hips and moving up to meet her. She dragged her nails with light force from the top of his neck all the way down his torso. They both bit their lips at the wave of sensations.

“Oh, Vis.”

“Wanda”

He tightened his grip even further and increased his pace until Wanda was on the edge of dissolving. He felt himself start to tumble over first. A flicker of doubt flashed across Wanda’s face, and he moved to quickly prove her worries null. One hand moved to cup her ass, encouraging her to keep moving, and the other moved to her clit to assure her he was not done. Her legs trembled and her insides clenched. She groped helplessly at his chest before squeezing her eyes shut and seizing all external movement, her full energy focused within. His fingers moved in time with her, pumping his hips slower and slower until they came to a full stop and Wanda began to catch her breath.

“Holy shit, Vis.” She gasped. “I love being a homeowner.”

He laughed and pushed lightly on her back to get her to lay atop him.

“No, no wait.” She pushed back against his chest, sunk fully down onto him and ground against him. “I just need a second.”

The grinding was almost painful for him, he was so sensitive from the recent climax. But oh, he thought. If that sight isn’t divine. Wanda glowed, her lazy smile of contentment beaming. Her body heat rolling off of her, the soft scent of her perspiration, the musk of their lovemaking. For just a moment, the constant aching pain, the blackhole of want in his heart he carried for her and she him, it settled content back into his chest, and all his breaths were of pure refreshment.

She slowly slid off of him, and he shivered at the sudden chill of the breeze across his most sensitive area. But she was back up half on him as soon as she left, his arm her pillow, and her leg his blanket. She traced swirls in the sweat adorning his chest and kissed his collar bone.

“Happy anniversary, Darling.” He kissed the top of her head.

Wanda smiled against his skin, then started to softly cry. “Oooh, Vision! I have a terrible confession to make.”

He craned his head up to look at her directly, alarmed by her sudden tears “Did I hurt you? I have the doctor on speed dial,” He reached for the phone next to the bed.

She pushed his hand away from the nightstand. “Vis, I’ve been lying this whole time. I have no idea what day it is. Anniversary, holiday, it could be a day of mourning for all I know. I’m a terrible wife.”

“Well, how about that?” Vision sat up, putting Wanda onto her back. He wiped her tears away with his thumb and kissed each of her mascara-stained cheeks. “I didn’t have a clue either this whole time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so fun to write. I think I'll continue doing these off-air chapters through the show here, so stay tuned. Some will be ~~spicy, others just fun. All Wandavision.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	4. Bread is for Ducks

Lunch was a dodgy affair, and unfortunately for Vision, it was a plague five days a week. The majority of the men would walk two blocks to the deli, wait in line for 15 minutes, pay a quarter each for a ham and cheese, or tuna fish, or whatever else the carbon-based did, eat it in five minutes, then walk back. Often, they would arrive much more upbeat than they left, an inside joke or two slinging forth from their tongues. 

“Working through lunch again, huh, Vision?” Norm would land a gentle punch to his arm before plopping back down into his chair.

Matching his friend’s grin, he’d pat the crinkled wax paper discarded off to the side of his desk. “Would you like to guess what the wife packed me today?”

Norm squinted at the paper, searching for evidence of a jam or dressing that he would never locate. “Egg salad.”

Vision shook his head, punctuating the gesture with a snap of his fingers. “So close. You’ll get it one day, Norm.” 

It was an easy script the two followed since Vision moved to Westview starting on Vision’s second day. On the first day, he had been invited out to the deli.

Vision patted his pockets. “It seems I must’ve left my wallet at home. No matter, I shall just have to work through the lunch.”

Norm’s face fell, and Vision felt guilt slice right through him. He sighed, then stood. “I may actually possess some money in my briefcase.”

Norm’s smile came back, and Vision’s guilt gave way to a burst of anxiety.

Walking with everyone to the deli was actually quite enjoyable, Vision found. Norm and Harold chattered non-stop to him, sparing no detail.

“We all eat the same sandwich every day,” Harold explained. “But on Wednesdays,”

“Which is today,” Norm added.

“We pick a card.” Harold grinned with mischief.

Vision searched his mind for explanation and came up empty. “A card?”

Norm pulled a deck from his coat pocket and wagged his eyebrows. “A card.”

“A…” Vision slowed his speech, trying to perhaps draw meaning through repetition. “Card?”

“Yup!” The shorter man held out the deck. “Here, take one.”

The box was much lighter than expected, the contents rattling when jostled. Opening the old torn box carefully as to not rip it any further, he saw that this deck had only 6 cards in total. Upon further inspection, it seemed that each card had a different sandwich written on it. “Oh, I see. It’s a randomization of items available to purchase for the purpose of ‘changing things up’ a bit.”

“Bingo!” Harold patted him on the back.

Vision threw him a confused look. “I don’t believe bingo uses cards.”

The two men threw their heads back with laughter.

He had managed, thankfully, to spend the first 20 minutes walking and waiting in line. It was enjoyable, refreshing even, to begin a friendship with the men. But when he was next in line to order, he realized he would soon be in a new dilemma. “Norm, Harold, I will be right back.”

Harold’s eyebrows knit together, and Norm’s head found the angle it always did when Vision deviated from normal behavior or conversation. 

The tall blond leaned in and dropped his voice to a whisper. “Nature calls.”

Both men nodded in understanding, and Vision managed to slip away to the men’s room until it was time to leave. For the entire length of the walk back to the office, his companions gave unnecessary recounts of all the times they had been stuck in the toilet.

Vision vowed to never get roped into lunch again.

He established a protocol of sorts, to manage the suspicion leveled at him. On his way home, he had stopped off at the store for wax paper and bread. He discussed with Wanda the best way to wrap a sandwich and followed her recommendations to conceal the bread. He then tore off an additional sheet of wax paper the very same size as the one used to wrap the food and folded it neatly into a small square. 

“Vis,” Wanda held back a full-blown smile. “Is that how you would dispose of a food wrapper?”

He looked down at his little square. “No, darling. This is how I would prepare a wrapper to be disposed of.”

Her eyes narrowed at his feigned innocence. “Oh, well then that makes perfect sense.”

“I know what you’re going to say.” Vision wagged the square at her. “No one will believe this paper is the same as the one around the bread. That is why I am going to write ‘sandwich’ on the bread one, and then replicate it on the square.”

She snatched the square from him. “Or you could just crumple it and set it next to you on your desk like a normal, not robot, human man.” 

Begrudgingly, he admitted later that her advice did prove the best course of action, though, after an unfortunate molding incident, the wrapped bread was quickly replaced with a brown face towel folded into a plush square that approximated a standard white loaf slice double over. A few weeks in and none were the wiser to his ruse. Each day right before mealtime, he would remove the ‘sandwich' from his bag and place it next to him. Then, as soon as everyone left, he would exchange it in his bag for the crumpled wax paper. At the end of the day, while collecting his things, he would subtly take the litter and pocket it so that he could once more return it to his bag for the next day.

But some things could not last. The plan had been to switch to a thermos system as soon as winter set in. One thermos would have water in it to give the illusion of soup. One would have a plastic spoon and stained napkin. The switch would be in season with the deli’s change in menu to soups, and therefore stave off the dreaded lunchtime with equal effectiveness. But after some time of his working through lunch, Mr. Hart had found out. On that terrible Friday, in front of everyone, and quite loudly, he made it abundantly clear that overtime was not allowed, and if he were to catch someone working through the mandatory 30 minute break, whether they clocked it or not, they would soon find themselves with much more than 30 minutes away from the office.

He had meant to tell Wanda when he arrived home, only to remember she was out for a girls bridge night, so he went to their spare room and picked up a book to calm his nerves with. Then another, and another, and another again. On his fourth and last book (the library’s check-out limit was criminal, truly) he heard the front door open, shut, and lock, followed by the sound of his lovely wife in a very relaxed state.

“Vis? Are you home? I want to show you something.” 

He set down the book he was rereading and made his way to her. The first thing he noticed was her cheeks, nearly as red as his own. “Wanda! Darling, what’s happened to you? I thought you were at bridge with the girls?”

She beamed at him, skipping over to his side and pushing herself up onto her toes to be as close to his face as possible. “I was.” She whispered and gave a quick peck to his jaw before skipping back towards the bedroom. “Boy, do those women know how to drink!”

The dots quickly connected. “Ah.” He followed her to the bedroom where she was already taking off her makeup. He found her heels kicked off across the room and gathered up the pair for her, placing them neatly in the closet. “Did you win something?”

Wanda finished peeling off her fake eyelashes, then spun to face her husband. “I lost every hand even when some of them could hardly tell a fork from a comb.” 

Her lips formed the perfect pout, and he made his way to her for a firm hug. He felt her smile against him when he dropped a kiss to the top of her head. When they pulled away, he couldn’t help but to smile also, her red cheeks already beginning to dim and her natural lashes batting dramatically. “What did you want to show me then?” 

Excitement rose in him as she pulled down her stockings with slow, sultry movement. It spiked when she threw her now bare leg up onto the side of the bed. “I wanted to show you this, sweetheart.” Her index finger landed mid-thigh. “Did you know I had a cluster of freckles right here that looks like the little dipper?” 

Vision looked to where she was pointing and stifled a laugh. “Either you know the little dipper to be a very different constellation than what I’ve familiarized myself with, or you only said you had something to show me as an excuse to draw me out of the reading area.”

Her nose crinkle was as good as a full confession, and Vision punished her deceit by pointing out which freckles on her body did in fact look like known constellations for the entirety of the time it took her to get ready for bed. 

By the time they were both under the covers, her head on his chest, she had resigned herself to listen for as long as Vision could keep up the train of thought, and it was increasingly obvious he was running out of astonomy. 

“If you connect this freckle,” He pointed to her arm. “And this one.” He poked another one. “And this one.” A third. “You get the delta.”

“The delta?” Wanda sat up to cock an eyebrow at him. “I’ve never heard of that.”

He scoffed at her. “Darling, I cannot tell you how many books speak of this shape. The Greek texts, for one, are obsessed.”

That earned him a playful swat. “So, what did you do all day?” She asked.

He recounted the sandwich dilemma to her.

“Hm.” Was her initial response. She laid slow methodical kisses along his chest, lost in a type of deep problem-solving thought that only occurs when buzzed. “Well, you could drive home for lunch.”

He shook his head. “By the time I’d get the car warmed up and driven here, I’d need to drive back.”

She fell back into thought, moving across his body to be able to kiss down his arms. Her soft lips tickled as they made contact with his shoulder, holding there for a few seconds, then bicep, also lingering. She looked up at him through her lashes as she kissed the top of his forearm, then looked away as she rotated his arm so she could kiss his wrist. Though he knew this level of innocent cuddliness was from the alcohol still in her system, his heart still soared with each small touch. With his free hand, he ran his fingers through her hair in appreciation of the affection. Eventually, she settled back onto his chest, giving one last large kiss to the very center of it. “I could come to you? We could sit in the park. I have nothing better to do; it’s not like you leave much of a mess for me to deal with as all the other women have. Some of them call their husband their other child.”

Vision stroked her cheek, mind now bringing up the image of two small kids trying to phase through furniture like their father, only to knock over everything in their path and bring chaos and laughter. “The boys have to walk past the park to get to the deli. I could start the journey with them, then after walk back with them as well.”

Wanda pushed herself up until she was hovering over her husband’s face. “You can feed your sandwich to the ducks.” She said, before dropping a small kiss to his lips and rolling off of him. “They will be delighted.”

He rolled to his side to find her back facing him. “Lunch may finally be all it is” He snickered. “Quacked up to be.”

The groan from his bed partner only served to amuse him more. 

Once he quieted, he reached out to pull her close and her mind reached out to his to connect them. The tipsy contentedness flowed over both of them as his knees found their place behind her’s. He kissed the top of her head once more, and then she was out cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, I set out for this chapter to be the picnic chapter. But then I started laying the groundwork for why Vision had lunch with Wanda every day in the first place, and all of the sudden a chapter was written. So picnic is next! Please stand by
> 
> Had a lot of fun trying to write in Vision's tone :)


	5. Flourish!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post magic show sexy times

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter may be closer to explicit than mature? I have no idea what distinguishes them from each other. Please let this be your warning. If you don't want to read any, let's just say ~mechanical~, descriptions of sex, I suggest bailing out halfway to 3/4ths of the way through this chapter.

The faster they could get away from the fundraiser, the better. Vision was still shaking off the last of his weirdsies, pushing his hair from one side to the next, then back again, trying to remember how it was supposed to part. Wanda had taken his cape for herself-- every step further from the stage made her more aware of all the skin her outfit didn’t cover. It felt like ten miles before they reached the car. 

“Wrong side, Vis.” She shooed him away from the driver’s door with a flapping of hands. “I want to do a full check-up on you before I let you handle a second machine.”

He pushed his hair to the right and went around the front of the car to the other side. “I’m starting to understand the appeal of inebriation. People become your friend, laugh at your every joke, become your chauffeur.” 

Wanda rolled her eyes and unlocked the vehicle. She slid in and shut the door, only to realize the cape was caught. “And I’m starting to understand why capes aren’t coming back in style anytime soon.” She opened the door again, yanked in all the fabric, and slammed it shut again. The key quickly was turned to ignite the engine and allow the car to warm up. She bent down to fiddle with her heels, and in short time both were tossed in the backseat with a clanging ruckus.

“Wanda?” Vision scooched right until he was next to her. “Where is Senior Scratchy?”

Her hand flew to her lips.

A trip back to the stage for rabbit rescue and prop collection later, they finally made it home. 

“Would you like me to grab your shoes, darling?” Vision hesitated to get out.

Wanda did not. “Nope, leave ‘em.” She slammed the car door behind her. The front door opened several seconds before she climbed even the first step. 

Vision nearly had to fly to keep up. “Darling, what’s wrong?” He strode into the house, shutting the door behind him and following the sound of struggle to the bedroom. 

It was a mighty sight to behold, watching his wife struggle to grab a tiny zipper behind her back. Her spine arched and her left arm pushing the elbow of her right to further the stretch. Before he could make a move to help her, a red wisp pulled down the zip. Wanda yanked off her long red gloves, then with great haste pushed off the ribbon straps of the bodysuit followed by the bodysuit itself. Like a Russian doll of fabric, it revealed a second bodysuit in peach spandex underneath. 

The annoyance in the air was palpable as she began scratching over every Spanxed inch of her body, only pausing to step out of the high wasted sausage casing and scratch even more. The fishnet stockings were pushed down to her hips, revealing skin that could easily have been mistaken for a Christmas ham. “I was fine until we started driving!” More and more little red streaks appeared all over her skin as she scratched and scratched away. “Why do clothes makers think women don’t sit? Please come scratch my back as I get the rest of this off, I am dying.”

It was a very easy request to fulfill. He bent his fingers into spindly paws with claws and made a zig-zagged waterfall pattern from neck to the dimples on her lower back, then back up again while she pushed the fishnets all the way off of her. Clad now only in her underwear, her hands were free to scratch her stomach and legs. The blood began to flow again in her skin and she let out a groan of relief. “Thank you for having my back.”

Waterfall motion made way for small circles of scratches orbiting each other over shoulder blades and ribcage. “I expect payment in cash. All bills, no coins.”

Quiet content settled over them both as they scratched in silent tandem. After a minute, Wanda reached back and stilled Vision’s hands. She spun around beneath their jointed limbs to face her husband. While aiding her, he had shed his disguise and was back to the crimson man she adored. “Lie back on the bed, I want to make sure you didn’t swallow anything else while playing farrier with the boys.”

It was on the word ‘swallow’ that she noticed Vision gulp, his eyes well below her gaze, and she realized the compromising situation she had put herself in. He reached out to gently graze the side of her chest and she closed her eyes as the cool touch met her. She opened her eyes to find him stepping closer to her, a hint of a smirk teasing at the corner of his lips.

“Nope.” She put a hand to his chest and pushed him back. “Bed, now.”

He flopped back with great drama, his face now broken into a full smile. “That was my intent regardless.”

“For medical attention!” She scolded him, starting with untying his shoes and setting them down next to the rest of his in the closet.

Back to the bed, she yanked off his socks, then undid his vest and shirt with a red breeze. She climbed up onto the bed and straddled him. She began to push the fancy material away from his center, only to collapse on top of him with her head resting in defeat on his undershirt-covered chest. 

“Please tell me this is the last layer,” Wanda mumbled to his sternum.

He lifted his head to make eye contact with her. “To be fair, you said your favorite part of my tux-wearing would be unwrapping me layer by layer like a present.”

“I didn’t think you would take that to mean using up all the clothes in the neighborhood.” Wanda climbed off of her husband and let him sit up to pull everything except his trousers away. 

Vision flopped back down onto his back. “Ready for examination.”

From the bedside, she waved her hand to scan over him. “Huh.”

“What?” His pulse climbed.

Eyebrows knitted together, she climbed back on the bed to rest her hand on his stomach. His muscles clenched beneath her palm.

Vision’s voice climbed several octaves higher than normal as he inquired about his prognosis. “Wanda, what is it?”

“Well,” She bent down to put her ear on his abs. “The gum is all gone, but I think I’ll need to continue close observation for the next hour or so.”

His heart rate began to lower. “That’s not so bad. What needs observing?”

Steadying herself with her left hand, Wanda leaned over him and began poking him with her right index finger. “How did that feel, sweetheart?”

Vision watched her breasts sway with each small movement of her arm and felt his muscles tense. “Like a finger poking my abdominals.”

His breath hitched as she leaned forward, gravity pulling her chest down until her nipples dragged against his stomach as she bent forward to poke his shoulder. “What about there?”

“That’s not really a part of the digestive tract.” He squeaked as she pushed herself back up, one arm on each side of him, and brought herself fully on the bed. She swung a leg over him, her knees pushing his trousers to abrase his thighs. 

“How about this?” She lowered herself to kiss him. His hands instinctively found their way around her with one hand to the small of her back, crushing her down to him, and the other resting on her upper back just to keep busy.

Her lipstick tasted strange, unusual for her to still have it on by the time they tumbled to bed most days. But then her tongue swiped at his mouth, eliciting him to part his lips, and the taste of her overtook that of the makeup. A rock of her hips over his was a wave of pleasure, his eyes closing shut even tighter to ride it. 

When she pulled away, he reopened his eyes and knew she expected an answer.

“I, hmmm. Ah…” The rocking had resumed. He resolved to just nod at her and internally cringed as he noticed that in his haze his muscle memory had also given her a thumbs up. Her nose crinkled with pleasure at his loss of words and a smile bloomed across her face. He admired how her hair touched her shoulders to perfectly frame the slopes and valleys he memorized each night and became even more tongue-tied. 

The rocking soon came to a brisk end, however. A quick dismount left Vision exposed to the cold air. He started to sit up but felt her powers push him back down to the mattress. As soon as he registered what had happened, Wanda was at the foot of the bed, her hands making quick work of his trouser buttons, then the trousers altogether, and finally his pants. He squeezed his eyes shut again and let his hands grip the sheets into balls as a wet warmth tracked up his inner thigh and along the side of his cock. “Wanda…” He breathed. 

She responded with a kiss to the left of his penis followed by a magic trick of her own. He felt the fitted sheet uproot as he jolted to the overwhelming sensation. Small, soft, manicured fingers crept their way along the dips of his hips and his tensed obliques, fire and ice brewing beneath their touch. It took great concentration for him to keep his hips in place. Every square millimeter of his brain screamed for him to buck into her each time she lifted. “Wan…”

He released one hand from the sheets to tangle his fingers in her hair, careful not to push or pull. The touch alone, the added rhythm to another area of his body, was powerful. Vision gasped as her lips sank down and touched his pubic bone, tongue swirling for just a moment at the shaft of his member before pulling away again. He tried to slow his breathing, regulate his heart rate, but found no success. 

His second hand released the sheets to grab her shoulder, pawing at it until she accepted the nudge of his mind telling her to come back.

One last lick and she crawled back up the bed to return to his mouth. He could taste himself on her and it drove him mad. 

If there were ever a perfect time to try something he had been musing on, this was it.

In swift motion, he hooked two fingers in the band of her underwear and pulled.

Wanda laughed into his mouth as she felt the fabric be phased through and away. “Vis!”

He couldn’t help but laugh as his mouth ran ahead of his mind. “Flourish.” He smirked.

The look of Wanda shaking her head at him with a grin ear to ear truly was magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was supposed to be the picnic scene, which would have been a short and cute rated G chapter. I have it written out roughly in my notepad, but when I opened my laptop to transfer it over I ended up writing this instead. I guess the next chapter will be the cute picnic fluff then, which is out of timeline order, but I think everyone reading this will be okay living with that. It's not like I'm writing an arching plot here haha
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the surprise smut!


	6. The Picnic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The picnic where Wanda and Vision discuss what talent they will showcase.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This technically happens before chapter 5, but I didn't write the two chapters in order. Oops

Agnes was such a dear to lend Wanda her picnic basket. Of course, if this worked, she would need to go out and buy her own soon enough. It was hell, washing and polishing all the bits and bobbles, cleaning the straps that held the plates and glasses in place, not to mention preparing food ahead of time and carrying it all the way to the park near Vis’ work.

“Listen, hon,” Agnes had tapped her after passing over the basket. “Enjoy it while it lasts. Now when Ralph asks me to come down, I just say, ‘I’ll come down if you can get up.’ And then put the phone back on the receiver.”

The sandwiches didn’t weigh much. The juice, had she brought enough for two, would have been exhausting to carry. But luckily, that was not an issue. In the basket, she also had packed an apple, some mints, and a thin white blanket to sit on. It was what all the magazines showed to be the classic American way.

Not long after she had settled on the grass, the silverware and dishes on display in the propped open basket and food at the ready in Tupperware. She noticed the cluster of men across the way. It was always interesting to try and spot Vision from afar. Just them alone, he was a giant. But surrounded by other men, he was only slightly above average. She stifled a smug grin as the thought _But none of them is even an ounce as handsome as mine_ drifted across her mind.

If they had been mentally linked still, she hadn’t noticed. But as soon as the thought hit her, her husband waved and began crossing the street. His nods and nervous smiles meant he was excusing himself multiple times to each person. A running theory of hers was that if Vision ever met another synthezoid such as himself, they would introduce themselves, have a quick conversation, and then attempt to politely part ways over and over until the sun expanded and killed them both. Today only supported that hypothesis.

“The boys say ‘hello’.” Vis lowered himself down and sat with his legs crossed in front of the second plate. “They were discussing their various acts for the talent show next week.”

“The one for the children?” Wanda popped the lid off of the sandwich container. The white bread, crust off and cut into 4 squares, showed off the thin layer of cream cheese and medallions of cucumber.

“Yes, indeed. For the children.” He echoed and reached for a piece. Wanda swatted at his hand. He jumped, reeling his hand back.

“That one is for me, sweetheart.” She pulled out another sandwich container and handed it to him.

He cautiously accepted the box, lifting it to be eye level and peeling away the lid gingerly. It revealed two slices of bread’ worth of crust remaining. “Is this from the new cookbook, darling?”

Her sandwich stopped short of her mouth. “Yes, I believe it was called Popular Mechanics. Great content for the husband, but simply not to my tastes.”

Vision gave long and slow nods. “Their dishes do tend to be quite greasy and full of nuts. Not proper for a high-class woman such as yourself.”

“Naturally.” She straightened her back and gave a small waggle of her shoulders to display all her uppity glory, then bit off the smallest corner of sandwich possible.

“I have an idea for our talent if you’re open to participating.” Vision continued.

Wanda, chewing thoughtfully, nodded as a silent communication that he was cleared to pitch.

“Idea one.” He held up a finger “I could play the ukulele, and you could sing.”

She shook her head. “No.”

Vision rolled with the rejection. “Idea two: You play the ukulele and I sing.”

That pulled a laugh from her. “I think we want them to give money to charity, Vis. Not compel them to try to pay us to stop.”

He cocked his head to the side. “I suppose your ukulele does have a lot of work before becoming show grade.”

A swat to the shoulder lead to him rubbing his bicep and pouting.

“Touchy! Is this because you had to lug that basket all the way over here? Why do we even need forks for a sandwich?” A mallard landed ten feet away from Vision. He tossed a crust to the animal.

Wanda had shoved the rest of the square into her mouth when he had been distracted by the bird. Her cheeks puffed out and she hurried her chewing. Vision took the opportunity to feed the bird again and found himself doing a double-take when he turned to find there were now 4 mallards staring at him. He tore the next crust into four pieces and tossed them over in quick succession.

“This is what the magazine said to do. I don’t want your friends thinking we’re savages.” Wanda grabbed her next square. “Next idea?”

He scratched his chin in thought. “Dancing? We could do a dance.”

That piqued her interest. “What dance?” She mumbled through her bite, no longer caring.

“I can waltz,” He proudly proclaimed. “We could waltz!”

She shook her head, finishing off the square. “Is that really a talent though? I feel like no one is going to be impressed by us hugging in circles.”

Vision scoffed. “Clearly you haven’t seen my waltz, darling. Fred Astaire, full stop. It’s like I’m gliding on the air.”

Wanda squinted at him, disbelief evident.

“Granted,” He amended. “I was. Gliding on air, that is. But no one else knew that. And if I’m being honest, quite frankly how do we know that Freddy himself was not doing the same?”

“Because he couldn’t have?” Wanda countered without missing a beat.

Vision shook his head dismissively. “Impossible to know.” His lips twinged upwards, betraying his serious demeanor.

“Say,” Wanda pointed at him. “What about a comedy set?”

He pursed his lips, his head bouncing just slightly as he mulled over the idea.

“Oh, my god!” Wanda jumped back. A bird swooped down at high speed and snatched one of her two remaining sandwich squares.

Vision immediately lunged forward. “Take cover, darling!” He used his body as a shield for her as more birds descended on the last bit of food, pecking at each other in a rabid battle.

It was over almost as soon as it started. A brown feather remained the only evidence of their assault. That, and the absence of any bread product in either Tupperware. Vision pushed himself up off of his wife and back onto the blanket. Through their link, he could feel her heartbeat still roaring at a mile a minute.

Wanda pressed her hand to her chest in an effort to calm down. Vision giggled.

“What?” She threw the question at him, annoyed at his jubilance.

He bit his lip as if his teeth were the final barrier before the sentence came barrelling out. “Well, it’s just that I said, ‘take cover’ when it would have been much more appropriate to say, ‘duck’ due to it having been a flock of mallards.”

She was not amused. “Very funny, Vis.”

Her dryness didn’t dissuade him. “The comedy set could all be entirely duck-themed. ‘Quack, quack, who’s there?’”

Her lips were set in a hard line. He answered the joke anyway. “’Duck. Duck who? Duck!’ And then we could have a ball painted like a duck fly over us all crouched.”

Vision waited for her to laugh. She simply stuck out her tongue at him. “Boo. Not funny.”

“Aw,” Vision crab-walked around the blanket to be at Wanda’s side. He plopped back down, letting his long legs stretch out, and placed his arm around his wife. She let her head flop onto his shoulder, and he seized the opportunity to drop a kiss to her forehead. “I’m sorry darling. Next time there’s a wild animal attack I will not make light of it no matter how punny the incident may be when put into a topical framework.”

Now it was her turn to laugh without prompt, though it was less a giggle like his and more of a quick stream of air huffed out her nose. “I have a joke, Vis.”

He cringed at the tone. “I’m not going to like this joke very much, am I?”

That made her smile. She snuggled further into his side. “A witch and a synthezoid enter a talent show. The witch says, ‘Honey, I’d like to float some ideas past you for our set.’” Vision closed his eyes feeling the windup to the punchline. She continued. “The synthezoid replies, ‘But Wanda, though quite gifted with telekinesis, an idea is intangible and therefore cannot be floated either in liquid or by your spells.”

Vision opened his eyes to find his wife staring at him. He cringed again. “It was a bit on the nose, don’t you think?”

Her tone lightened to a play of anger as she whispered her threat. “I’m going to bite you on the nose if you aren’t careful.”

She squeaked when he responded by nuzzling her head with the nose at stake. “You wouldn’t dare!” He teased, nuzzling her harder and faster, his head working in random patterns to keep catching her face as she twisted and turned to evade the attack.

Hand pushed at his chest, then grabbed at his jacket as Wanda fell backward onto the grass in a fit of giggles. Her impact disrupted the open picnic basket, and it clanged shut, the dishware within like an expensive tambourine.

“Now look what you’ve done, darling.” He stretched out to be alongside her, propping his torso up with his elbow. “You’ve destroyed the whole picnic just because you refuse to learn the ukulele.”

She reached out to cup his cheek, then sat up so she could give him a long, lazy kiss. When she pulled away, her face lingered in front of his. He touched his forehead to her’s.

“Ow, Wanda!” He jerked back, his hand flying to his nose. She fell back onto the grass and laughed so hard her whole body shook. Her hair was ablaze by the afternoon sun, the green grass contrasting each strand. If moments could be captured like fireflies, he would have taken the discarded Tupperware and scooped the present right in.

The trance shattered at the sound of Norm across the street, yelling his name. Vision, pal. We have to get back!”

A glance in the direction of the voice confirmed that it was indeed time, his officemates all funneling back into the building, save Norm, who stood still and waved.

Wanda waited for him to focus back on her, pouting as soon as he turned her way. “I guess that you, then.”

He brushed a strand of hair off her face, then took her hands and pulled her up to standing. “Guess that’s me.” He gave her hands a small squeeze. “We’ll have to continue our conversation later this evening,”

She glanced at Norm, who was still waving with as much enthusiasm as he had started. “You know,” She smoothed her hands down the lapels of Vision’s jacket. “Agnes volunteered her rabbit for anyone wanting to do close-up magic. That could be fun- having to learn some tricks.”

“Vision! It’s Norm!”

Vision groaned, hating the idea of having to leave his lovely wife when they were just beginning to relax. “Let’s do that then. I’ll keep my jokes just for us.”

She smiled in agreement and raised herself up onto her tiptoes to give her husband a quick peck on the jawline. She relished in the soft blush that rose to the forefront of his cheeks. Seeing the rosiness spread was the one thing she loved about his disguise. “Do you think you could take the basket back with you and drive it home at the end of the day?” She squatted down to gather up the blanket.

“Absolutely, darling.” He kissed the top of her head while she was still crouched and picked up the basket.

“Vision!” Norm yelled again.

“Yes, Norm! I will be over there in just a moment!” He yelled back. More softly to Wanda he added, “Until tonight, my love.”

She hugged the bundled blanket close to her chest. “Until tonight, my love.”


	7. The Pot Luck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wanda is excited for her first potluck in Westview.

The potluck. It tickled Wanda just to think about it. Potluck. It made her tingle with excitement. What could be more all-American than a potluck?

A potluck at a baseball game? On the Fourth of July? End of list.

Dottie, naturally, was the one throwing it for the neighborhood. The invites had been hand delivered by Phil. They contained a return envelope for RSVPing and listing what dish you will be making. Condiments did not count, a note at the bottom of the card read.

Within seconds of reading the card contents, Wanda broke into jazz hands. “Pasta salad!”

Vision set the stationary down. “Gesundheit?”

Hands on her hips, Wanda elaborated, “I’m going to make a pasta salad! Twirly tri-colored pasta, peas, carrots, pickles, mayo, mustard pickle juice. Maybe I’ll throw in some red potatoes.”

“Wanda, according to all my baby books, it’s normal for you to be craving the peculiar.” Vision clarified, seeing Wanda’s eyebrow cocked at him. “Pickles and mayo qualify as peculiar, darling. Anyways, though I will gladly prepare it for you, is that truly something anyone else would enjoy because in all my cookbook research that combination would be as good as…” He shook his head as if to reshuffle his brain to find a better simile. “Well, pickles and mayo, really.”

He bit one knuckle, his other arm across his abdomen, posing with the sheepish expectation of backlash. He winced as Wanda sauntered closer and closer to him until they were nearly toe to toe. “Pickles and mayo as compared to pickles and mayo. I knew I married a man of literature, but I didn’t know you had such a mind for poetry.”

It was a challenge, but he managed to drop his hands and square himself against her. “I also have quite the knowledge of the art of distraction.” He bent his head down to kiss the corner of her jaw, arms wrapping around her waist as he kissed her pulse point, then her collar bone.

“Vis?” Wanda broke his focus, unmoved by his blatant scheme. “Go bring the return card with pasta salad written on the dish line before someone else takes it.”

Another kiss to her neck landed and lingered. A hand dropped down to the curve of her ass, cupping it for a moment before Vision pulled away. At a glance, he knew she was determined. “Would more poetry perhaps shift you?”

She cocked her head to the side. “Vis, are you afraid to walk to Dottie’s?”

A pen scraped along the paper as Vision filled in their reply. “Am I afraid to walk to Dottie’s? Wanda, don’t be ridiculous.”

Her squint could have melted the wall.

“Am I afraid _of_ Dottie?” Vision asked. “Yes.”

“Vision, she is not going to bite you.” Wanda rubbed his back, the tight green polo showing off the ripples of his back and proving to be nearly the distraction Vision had hoped for. “How about after you get back, I’ll let you practice your distracting skills.”

Vis turned to her, looking at her with wide, somewhat wild eyes. “If that is indeed the reward, then I suppose I shall have to take the risk. Wish me a safe journey, darling.” He brought his hand up to his forehead in a salute and donned his human glamour.

Wanda saluted him back and enjoyed the view as he headed out. _Note to self_ , Wanda thought, _get more shirts for Vis from the polo collection_.

* * *

As soon as they arrived, Vision had peeled away to man the grill with Phil. That was the plan; so long as Vis was at the grill working the burgers, his lack of drink in hand would fit in yet he would still get the conversation promised at a gathering of this type.

Wanda waved him off and headed to the main table where little cards on the tablecloth explained each dish that would be brought, and who brought it. While convenient for knowing where to set the bowl down, it also added another layer of stress. If no one liked her dish, they would know who to blame. Wanda wasn’t a bad chef, but looking at the quiche Bev made, and the Hawaiian meatballs Herb brought, not to mention the ham and cheese crepes Dottie made in addition to providing hamburgers and hot dogs, her pasta salad seemed lackluster. Geraldine had brought a stunning pineapple upside down cake, the syrup glistening in the light. Even Agnes’ broccoli casserole looked good, and Wanda knew how little effort she had put into it. Not that a pasta salad was all that difficult, but it was a family recipe she recreated from memory, which had to be worth something more than a recipe from the back of a can.

She felt someone touch her elbow, and Wanda turned to greet Dottie, smiles tight and formal as the hostess lead her to where all the other women were conversing at. Wanda through a look back at Vision, catching one lingering glimpse of him with his head thrown back in laughter before becoming sequestered.

To her relief, the womens’ cooler had no alcoholic drinks. It was all about the sparkling water. Of course, she had rehearsed her graces if offered a beer or wine. That she didn’t believe in drinking during the day, even on special occasions. Simple, short, and inarguable. But it was nice not to need the canned response. The sparkling water was… odd in flavor, but not too disagreeable. It felt fancy just to hold the bottle.

Comfortable with staying quiet, Wanda nodded at the appropriate times to all the other ladies’ stories of kids or parents, or their parents when they were kids. As it turned out, several of them had multiple little ones. She had to fight the urge to rest her hand on her growing stomach.

Wanda sensed Vision’s approach before she heard his voice. “Food is served!” He announced, walking over to the women’s group.

She loved how natural it was to him to rest his hands on her shoulders when she was sitting and he wasn’t. She reached up to cover his hands with hers. “Hi, dear. How was the grilling?”

Vision watched the last woman leave the area. “Very fiery. Those fat drip flares are going to riddle my nightmares.”

He helped her up and out of her chair. Wanda stabilized herself, still getting used to a changing point of gravity.

His glamour held steady, but Wanda could feel the mind stone shining just a tad brighter as he flashed a smile at her state.

They made their way to the back of the line hand in hand. Wanda nervously watched everyone ahead of them take scoops of her dish in varying sizes. Dottie: No scoop. Agnes: Half scoop. Norm: Double scoop. Phil: Half scoop, turned hesitation, turned putting the scoop back into the bowl and moving on.

By the time Wanda and Vision were picking up their plates, some of the guests had gotten in line behind them for seconds. Most of the food, save hers, looked as one would expect from the back of the line. She tried not to let it get to her that the neighbors were uninterested in her creation. More for her.

She would not be so rude, Wanda decided, reaching for the salad tongs to begin her mission of tasting everything before noticing the ham cubes amongst the lettuce and balking. She replaced the tongs and instead grabbed a roll. Moving down the line, she skipped over the jello salad as well, then added a smear of cheese and some crackers to her plate. She felt obligated to take a small amount of Agnes’ casserole, then looked over the remaining dishes for anything else vegetarian. She reached for the quiche, then noticed bits in the cross section, and decided not to chance it. The rest of her plate was filled with her pasta salad.

“Darling, would you like to go grab us some chairs and I’ll bring you a fork?” Vision used his chin to indicate the direction of empty seats near the other couples.

She touched his upper arm in gentle thanks. “Don’t eat everything before you get over there. I know you’re starving.” Wanda loudly scolded her husband.

Herb, at the end of the table pouring himself a soda, laughed. “Don’t listen to her, Vision,” He heckled. “Men aren’t meant to run on empty.”

Vision smiled and pointed at his friend. “Ah, Herb. Sage advice.”

* * *

Wanda made herself comfortable at the chair next to Geraldine. “I can’t wait to try your dessert.” Wanda complimented her friend. “When I tried making a pineapple upside-down, it ended up being a pineapple on the floor.”

Geraldine waved at the compliment. “Oh, I’m sure if you tried again it would be excellent, Wanda. Your pasta salad is divine.”

“Oh, thank you for trying it! You’re too kind.” Wanda looked beyond her friend to Agnes and Bev. Bev was handing Agnes back her flask. “Everyone else seemed to skip it for one reason or another.”

Geraldine shook her head. “Life is too short to skip new foods. Unless it’s in a jell-o, then definitely skip it.”

Wanda gave a warm smile to Geraldine. She felt her heart start to brighten as she realized what a wonderful friendship had bloomed in such short time.

“Wanda,”

Wanda turned at the sound of Dottie’s voice. “Hiya, Dottie. What a lovely party you’ve thrown. I love your backyard. Beautiful grass.”

Her compliments were returned with only a tight smile. “Anyway, Wanda, I just noticed you really only took the food you brought. I wanted to let you know the hamburgers don’t actually have any ham. So, there’s no need to only eat your… creation.”

Wanda glanced at Geraldine who looked equally as off-put as Wanda felt. She turned back to Dottie. “Oh. Thank you, Dottie. I feel more informed already.”

Another tight smile. Dottie opened her mouth to say something else but stopped when she saw Vision return.

He smiled brightly at their neighbor, but his bouncing leg gave away his nerves. He lowered himself into the chair, handing Wanda a fork and napkin.

“Vision!” Wanda’s jaw hung open as she stared at her husband’s empty plate. “So much for not eating before you sit down.”

Vision made a goofy face and shrugged. “Sorry, darling. It’s not as if I can get my energy from the sun.”

The women laughed at his joke, and Vision set his empty plate on the grass. Dottie inspected his plate for any evidence of barbeque, but it was nearly licked clean. She left the three alone, heading back to her corner of the party.

The three chattered away until others began leaving their seats for dessert. Wanda also left to get some, making Vision promise not to wolf everything down if they shared a plate.

As soon as she left, Geraldine excused herself as well. Taking the quiet moment to study the ground, Vision realized he could overhear the conversation across the way.

_“That wouldn’t make any sense,” Bev whispered to Dottie. “How does that even work?”_

_“I guess like any mix,” Dottie whispered back. “But who knows what it’ll be like when they have kids. Talk about a Heinz 57. ”_

The ground faded away as Vision focused much more intensely on the conversation. His leg bounced obsessively. But as soon as Dottie began to speak again, Wanda reappeared.

“Wanda,” Vision whispered to her. “I think we should leave.” He took the spare fork from his wife’s hand without looking. His eyes were locked on the pair no longer looking directly at him but still whispering.

Her mouth was full of pineapple upside-down cake, so she chose to reply telepathically. _What’s wrong?_

 _They’re gossiping about us._ Vision showed who he referred to with a tilt of the head. _About how we are not… of the same kind. I think it may prove best to lay low for a while._

Wanda kept chewing. _What?_

Vision relayed the memory to her, and Wanda almost choked. Vision rubbed her back until she could breathe normally. “Come on,” She took Vision’s hand, put the dessert plate on her seat, and dragged him behind her to confront the pair.

Vision’s voice went shrill. “Wanda, I really don’t think this is a good idea, we should just leave and…”

Dottie and Bev clammed up as the storm approached.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooooo boy this one got away from me. It was supposed to be a snippet about pasta salad and five hours later it was a 4000 word rollercoaster of emotions. Posting in 3 parts.


	8. The Pot Luck continues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuing from last chapter. Wanda is confronting Bev and Dottie about their gossip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small warning for negative Romani stereotypes. No slurs, but Wanda does use stereotypes to embarrass Bev and Dottie for their dog-whistling earlier

“Dottie, Bev.” Wanda greeted them, a large smile plastered across her face. “Dottie, I was wondering if you would like me to read your palm?”

Dottie was quick to refuse. “Oh, no. No. Thank you.”

“Oh, do mine!” Bev excitedly held out her hand. “I wasn’t sure if you were, you know. But I love fortune tellers and all that stuff.”

Vision looked at his wife with such panic, she thought he might pass out.

Wanda held Bev’s hand and ran her fingers along the folds of the palm.

Dottie inched closer, intrigued. “How does it work?”

“Oh,” Wanda added great drama to her voice. “All Romani have ‘The Gift’.”

Bev nodded to confirm the statement. Vision closed his eyes, wishing he could phase into the ground.

Wanda tapped little dots on Bev’s hand, much to her excitement. “Bev, I can tell from your lifeline that you are in your thirties.”

Dottie opened her mouth to challenge the reading, but Bev cut her off. “Dottie, let her focus.”

“From your heart line, it looks like… nervousness. You were nervous on your wedding day.” Wanda gazed at the woman for confirmation and received an enthusiastic nod.

“Hmm.” She raised Bev’s hand to get a closer look. “The headline…” She dropped the hand.

Fear flooded the woman’s face. Dottie shook her head. “We get it, Wanda. I apologize.”

Bev didn’t waver from Dottie’s remark. “What is it.”

Wanda focused on her. “You know, I don’t know what’s in your head.” She turned to Dottie. “I’ve had a lovely time, but I need to get back to my wagon before Shabbat.”

Vision only came back online after they had arrived home, the whole walk back a blank in his mind. “Wanda, we could have just left.”

She angrily hung up her coat and threw off her shoes. “I could have done a lot of things.” Her eyes flickered red. “And I left my bowl there!”

“We can buy a different bowl!” Vision picked up the discarded shoes. “We can buy many other bowls.”

She let herself fall back onto the couch. “I don’t want other bowls.”

Vision joined her, lifting her feet up so he could sit, then lowering them back down onto his lap. He began lightly massaging her feet.

"Sometimes, I hate America." Wanda closed her eyes, letting a tear squeeze out. 

Vision's heart broke for his wife. He understood the feeling of otherness, the way it claws at your skin from the inside. He had originally thought it would go away, and when he was alone with Wanda it did. But that was the only time.

Sometimes, choosing to change the subject is the best option to take. He gave her feet another squeeze. “Do you know what I did with the food?”

Wanda shook her head.

“I found a small rat hole along the perimeter of her house and coaxed the little fella out with the crackers. His whole family ended up joining him. It was all gone in minutes.” Vision showed Wanda the memory as he replayed it in his mind. The rat was gross at first, the little hands and long tail, but then miniature versions appeared. Wanda’s hand moved to her belly. As a family, the rats were really kind of cute.

“Are you saying we’re like rats, always able to survive even in adverse conditions?” She had heard it before.

Vision raised his arms straight up, stretching until his shoulder popped. “Of course not.” He let his hand come to rest on her knee. “I’m saying that Dottie has rats. And now that they’re well-nourished, I imagine they’ll have another litter, maybe two. Who knows how many nests before they’re discovered? If only someone would have notified the homeowners I'm sure an infestation could be averted.”

Wanda pulled her legs back, then pushed forward so she could reposition to be sitting on her husband’s lap. Her scowl softened. “Vision, that’s a terrible thing to conceal.”

“Oh, I feel very guilty.” He wrapped his arms around her. “Rat or not, no one deserves living with Dottie. I should’ve brought them here.”

She relaxed into his embrace. Her head laid flat against his chest. “What would you name them?”

He ran his fingers through her hair. “Stuart, one of them. Templeton. Ratatoskr.”

“Minnie and Mickey,” Wanda added.

“Mice, traditionally, but I’ll let it slide this time.” He kissed her forehead. “Ben, Oscar, Rizzo,”

Wanda’s fingers brushed his jawline. “Not a lot of lady rats, are there?”

“No,” He bent down, their faces nearly nose to nose. “What about Ratbecca?”

She bit back her smile.

“Mmmm.” Vision hummed in thought, knowing how much his wife enjoyed feeling the vibrations of his chest. “GRATchen.”

Wanda pushed herself up just enough to meet his lips with hers for a gentle kiss. He paused the naming to cup her cheek and pull her closer. He deepened the kiss until she broke it.

“HoRATio.” He pointed at her as she adjusted her legs to straddle him.

“That’s not a girl’s name.” Wanda settled back down into his lap.

Vision pursed his lips. “HoRATia?”

Wanda took his face into her hands. “I’m going to make out with you now so you’ll stop.”

“I’ll tell you the rest later.” He whispered, pulling her to him.

Her back arched into him, pushing his head back with her kiss. She molded her body to his, shut her eyes as tight as possible to drown out everything that wasn’t him. But her mind kept going back to the words of her neighbor. It burned in her memory. Her hands began to glow, and Vision pulled away. “Wanda?”

She followed his line of sight to her hands, and the red retracted. “I’m sorry.” It was hardly a whisper, but to Vision, it may as well have been a scream. “I shouldn’t be bothered by it. Not when you can’t even show your face.”

His heart ached. Pushing her hair back, his fingers gently massaging her scalp with each stroke. “I agree it is not ideal.”

Her hands went back to her stomach, rubbing it ever-so-slightly. “I just wanted us to fit in.”

Vision lowered his hand to lay atop hers. He was somber but even in his response. “Wanda, dear. We do. They wouldn’t fear us if we didn’t.”

Wanda fixated on their hands. Minutes ticked past, her gaze completely focused and Vision watching her. Finally, she broke the silence. “Come take a nap with me?” Her eyes pleaded.

He slid an arm under her and lifted them both off the couch. She clung to him, her face pressed tightly to the crook of his neck, and she relished the warmth and smell that was so uniquely her husband’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I refuse to stop giving Vision puns. He is a man of wit, and there is no higher form.
> 
> Next chapter is part 3 to the pot luck saga. It is pure filth. You're welcome.


	9. The Pot Luck part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conclusion to the Pot Luck Saga. Vision knows how to pull his wife back from falling into a sadness nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I mentioned before I really don't get the distinction between M and E rated, so please be warned. Back in my day (2010?), M was the highest rating a fic could have so unless there is horrific violence, M is the rating I'll stick with. 
> 
> But yeah hella sex. heads up

Once in the bed, his body wrapped around her in a tight comforting spoon, the rest of the world finally began to melt. She relaxed into his warm embrace, her eyes drifting shut, and everything began to go dark.

“Rat Butler.” Vision blurted out. 

Wanda groggily tried to process the words.

Vision kissed the back of her neck. “Like Rhett Butler.”

It washed over her like a cleansing rain, the realization that she had the world's most persistent husband in absolutely the best way. He was persistent in his pursuit of truth, but also he was persistent in the pursuit of the absurd, so long as it brought laughter. He could be a pest, but it was never for his benefit. He was a pest because someone needed to eat through her thick skin. And no matter how many times she would close herself off, he would push through, the only objective being to make sure she wasn't alone. Her greatest fear was that no one would want to accept her. Because she was weird, or too powerful, or just didn't fit the bill. Vision was the only person to constantly see her and decide that he could just simply write a new bill and add himself to it. 

The first emotion at times like this was guilt. How often was he comforting her versus her comforting him. People could say it was because he didn't feel, but that was an obvious lie. Something closer to the truth was that when Wanda stood at the edge, she saw an infinite black hole sucking in everything she ever loved. To fall in would be to be surrounded by all those loves as they scream at you for eternity, and the possibility of that damnation was infinitely soothing. Vision pulled her away from the edge by showing her that she had something to hold on to, a reason not to get sucked in. He was her anchor to the present, the real world. Vision, however, never encountered a black hole. Vision encountered an endless blackboard of mathematical proofs that never quite finished no matter how much he would write. Vision stewed over the tiniest of details, counting everything backwards and forwards and backwards again. Wanda pulled him away from the blackboard by simply taking the chalk from him, writing Q.E.D. and asking him to dinner. 

Simply put, Vision always reminded Wanda that there was always something more to look at and explore. Wanda always reminded Vision that sometimes the truth is less important than experiencing the question. 

So, when Vision clarified Rat/ Rhett Butler, all Wanda could think was: Here I am, staring into infinite black, when right beside me is everything I will ever need through eternity. 

She whipped around, now fully awake, and pushed him from his side onto his back, then climbed on top of him and kissed him breathless. “You think you’re funny?” She smiled at him.

He cocked his head. “Not yet. Barbrat Streisand. Robert Ratford. Robert De Nirat –”

“Take off your clothes, Vis.” She pushed at his shirt, pulling it roughly over his head. 

“Ratsputin.” He continued, laughing as he evaded her silencing smooch, turning his head left, then right, her kisses landing on the sides of his face and on his neck. 

“Stay still!” She growled at him as he began lifting her shirt over her head. “You.” She kissed his chest as he fumbled at her bra strap. “Are not.” The clasp came undone and she tossed the garment away. “Funny!” She laughed and finally sealed off his mouth with hers. 

He pulled her tight to him and rolled them until she was on her back and he was hovering above her. The playful jovial look on his face had been replaced by that of pure lust. He kissed her hard, her head lifting to stay with his even as he pulled away to kiss lower down her body. She rested a hand on the back of his head, gently raking her fingers across the skin and vibranium. He lowered himself down the bed, the sheets peeling back with him, and his fingers pulled her panties down with a slowness that left her on the edge of begging for him to move faster. He continued taking his time despite feeling her need emanating off of her skin like a pulsing wave of pleading. He licked her calf up to her knee and placed a small kiss on the back of the joint. Settling that leg on his shoulder, he moved to the other, copying the move. He moved up suddenly, and Wanda gasped with the anticipation of his mouth on her, only to realize he was simply reaching for a pillow. He lifted her whole lower body and placed the pillow at the base of her spine, then moved up until she was practically sitting on his shoulders. 

“Vis, if you say another rat pun while down there, I will break your neck with my thighs.” She warned. 

“Noted.” He mumbled, moving forward to kiss her at her opening. His arms wrapped around her legs to rest on either side of her stomach. Usually, she could watch him move, eyes closed, head bobbing as his tongue danced up and down, each languid stroke teasing her until he began to suck at her clit and writhe from his fingers pumping her until she thought she would explode. 

Now with the slight bump, all she could see was the way his fingers flexed, pulling her down harder to him as she relaxed and grew wetter and wetter. She worried she would rip the sheets as she grabbed at them. He had begun to find a rhythm and she bucked into him with each flick of his tongue. Her thighs closed around his head, locking him in position until he wedged them back open to get an arm in position for increased stimulation. The other arm remained on her torso, holding her to the bed as though she might float away with each heavy breath after the other. 

The addition of his hand turned the wisps of pleasure flowing through her into rolls, then waves, then,

“Vis…” His grip on her side tightened as she shuttered, her whole body twisting with each contraction as he continued to bury himself in her. 

She started to come down as he removed himself. She started to curl into herself absorbing the residual bursts of pleasure only to feel her husband's heavy hand rest on her hip while his other worked to loosen his pants. She giggled, her love for her husband and excitement at his determination too much to contain in just a smile. “Vis, you’re going to kill me.” She rolled back onto her back and drank in the hard lines of his toned body as he crawled up her.

“Shall I go back to making puns?” He backed off of her.

“No!” She pulled him back down to her. “Get inside me.”

He guided himself in, and they both sighed at the sensation.

It was rare for Wanda to find herself on her back, but listless off a fresh orgasm, propped up by the pillow so that every pump hit just right, she could find no qualms about her position. Still very wet, and more relaxed than ever, Vision was able to really fuck his wife. Both of them had one arm braced against the headboard. Wanda had learned the hard way the dangers of Vis’ muscles working her horizontally, and though he immediately removed himself from her, fetched ice for her head, and spent the rest of the evening doting on her, she would rather not repeat that incident.

At the pace and intensity he was maintaining, and Wanda breathlessly trying to just remember how to form words, they both knew things were not going to last long. She reached down and put pressure on her clit, the tip of her finger brushing the top of his cock with each stroke, and he groaned. One hand dropping to her shoulder, he held her in place, pushing harder and faster until his rhythm fell apart entirely. He shuddered, body lowering to cover Wanda’s as she continued to lightly massage herself into a wind-down. The removal of the pressure would have left her too raw too quick.

Vision slipped out and flopped onto his back beside her. Maybe it was just a post-coital rush, but Wanda felt like his gaze transcended time-space as she knew it. Like everything converged into those two blue irises, and the whole universe was right in front of her.

This was all she needed. Just her goofy, sexy, compassionate synthezoid, and the baby within her. Her family. Everything in one soft, sweaty, warm and familiar place. 

Vision bent over the edge of the bed to retrieve the covers, the fabric now cold in contrast to their skin. The pair snuggled together beneath the plush, and not long after, Wanda was deep asleep.

Breathing in the scent of his wife post-workout, Vision smiled to himself. See, he thought I told you I was good at distraction.

Wanda’s sleepy “No.” That followed his thought was music to his ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final scene of the pot luck! Like I said, this started off as a short story about pasta salad that featured Vision flipping burgers as he does in the opening of the 70s episode. I really didn't intend for it to blow up into this, but I wasn't going to stop the story before it was done.


End file.
